Mythea and Smallcroft Prompts
by simplyshelbs16
Summary: a short collection of Mythea and Smallcroft prompts I received from the lovely Mychakk! :) I do not own the characters; Sir ACD and Moftiss/BBC do.
1. Stuck

**drabble prompt from Mychakk on Tumblr: #26, "** **I'm stuck! Help me!"**

* * *

"Right, so as I was saying, I need you to keep an eye on my brother this weekend so that-" Mycroft was cut off.

"I'm stuck! Help me!" Anthea shouted. Her pencil skirt somehow got snagged in the car door. He sighed before walking over to attempt to work it free. Upon opening the door, she was still stuck to it on a jagged piece of the door jamb.

"How on earth did you even manage this?" he complained.

"How should I know? It's not like I-" the sound of fabric ripping silenced her as she felt the skirt slip right off of her. Mycroft stood up quickly absolutely flustered. Anthea took the opportunity to turn it into a joke. "Might want to ask me out on a date before trying to get me out of my skirt, sir." She could swear his eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

"I'll find you a replacement; stay in the car," was all he could manage.


	2. Don't Tell Mummy!

**prompt #35: "I'll just tell your mom on you."**

* * *

"Do we have to go on a double date with my brother and Miss Hooper?" Mycroft groaned.

"Yes we do," Anthea confirmed.

"Why? I'd rather lose an appendage," he stated.

"Mycroft Holmes, you are going or I'll just tell your mum on you," she warned him.

"Are you threatening me, dear?" Mycroft asked.

"Nope; promising you," Anthea smirked as she took out her phone. "Oh, let's see, Mary, Molly, ah Mrs. Holmes!"

"Don't tell mummy! I'll go," he conceded. "She'll make me sit through another viewing of Les Mis."

"I knew I could convince you," she smiled with satisfaction.

"You can be evil sometimes," Mycroft admitted.


	3. Bad Luck

**prompt #139: "Don't open an umbrella in the house."**

* * *

Anthea had her feet up on the coffee table as she flipped through the magazine held in her perfectly manicured hands when Mycroft appeared from their bedroom. He was dressed for the day, umbrella in hand.

"How dreadful," he remarked as he looked out the window. It was pouring down rain outside.

"Glad I don't have to go out in it," she commented. A wooshing sound caught her attention. "Don't open an umbrella in the house, Mycroft."

"I'm preparing for the weather outside," he defended.

"It's bad luck!" she argued.

"Oh, don't tell me you believe in those silly superstitions," he scoffed with a roll of his eyes.

"Yes, I do, FYI," Anthea replied. "Close it, now."

"And if I don't?" Mycroft challenged.

"I won't let you kiss me for a week," she teased. Now, she was playing as she slinked around him.

"That's not going to perturb me," he told her.

"Oh?" she asked. He could feel her minty fresh breath against his neck, causing him to gulp nervously.

"It's not going to work," Mycroft insisted. She moved in front of him, allowing her lips to linger just below his. He moved in to kiss her but she backed away and he huffed in frustration.

"Umbrella; close it now," she demanded. He did as she requested and tossed it on the sofa to give her a proper snog before leaving for work.


	4. Denial

**#92, "That SOOO classifies as a date." (Smallcroft)**

* * *

"Oh, what's this?" Sherlock asked, holding up Lady Smallwood's card.

"Where'd you get that?" Mycroft huffed in a fluster.

"Mm, coat pocket," Sherlock muttered. John, Mary and Molly gathered to look at it.

"Oh, her private number, huh?" Mary teased.

"Did she ask out Mycroft?" John mused in wonderment.

"It was simply two coworkers meeting up for drinks," Mycroft defended.

"Sounds like a date, brother mine," Sherlock teased.

"It was not!" Mycroft argued.

"That SOOO classifies as a date," Molly remarked.

"Oh, so like the time my brother took you crime solving and asked you out for chips afterward?" Mycroft countered.

"That wasn't a date!" Molly shouted. "Sherlock, tell him."

"Well..." he began.

"Oh, bugger," Molly sighed.

"Are you gonna see her again?" Mary prodded.

"At work, yes," Mycroft answered.

"And after work, are you gonna see her again?" Mary continued. Mycroft looked at her in horror.

"For God's sakes, Mycroft," Sherlock groaned, "you should. She likes you, God only knows why, but it's rare so don't let it slip from your fingers like I did." The entire room was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. Molly gaped at the consulting detective like she had seen a ghost.

"Perhaps you're right," the eldest Holmes agreed. "Yes, I should think a phone call is in order." With that, he turned to walk away and set up another date with Alicia Smallwood.


	5. Going for Drinks

**#100, "I'm sorry, but that was adorable." (Smallcroft)**

* * *

"Shall we go over the restrictions and security protocols for my brother? He needs to be reigned in," Mycroft droned on.

"Mycroft, this isn't exactly a business meeting," Alicia Smallwood pointed out.

"Well, I assumed that we needed to discuss the precautions when you mentioned having a drink. The proverbial deity knows I need a drink when I have to deal with him," Mycroft rambled. Alicia was laughing now and he gave her a look of confusion.

"I'm sorry, but that was adorable," she continued.

"Adorable?" he questioned.

"Well, you're a bit clueless aren't you? I asked you out for a date, not a business meeting, but the way you constantly ramble on is quite amusing," Alicia explained.

 _"I thought, perhaps, you might have found yourself a...goldfish."_ Sherlock's voice rang in his head.

 _"I'm not lonely, Sherlock."_

 _"How would you know?"_

"Mycroft?" Alicia asked with concern, her hand touching his. Bringing himself out of his thoughts, Mycroft looked down at where she held his hand.

"I should like to do this again sometime," was all he said.


	6. Nightmare

**#147, "** **Zombies aren't real, I promise."**

* * *

It was clear that Mycroft wasn't one who for monsters of any kind. Sherlock's cruel clown prank was enough. His mind disagreed, though. As he slept, images of his loved ones as zombies swam in his head. First, it was Eurus; that one wasn't hard to imagine as she wouldn't talk anymore now. His first thought was to go to Baker Street to find Sherlock. Searching the sitting room, Sherlock lay on the sofa with his hands steepled together. It was a usual sight until his baby brother's eyes shot open, all life drained from them. Mycroft backed away in a mix of panic and grief.

He suddenly found himself at his parents' house and breathed a sigh of relief. The scent of berry trifle wafted through the air; a favourite of Mycroft's. At least his parents weren't craving human flesh. He crept to the kitchen to find his father's face buried in a newspaper and his mum baking, her back turned to him.

"Something's happened to Sherlock...and Eurus. I don't know what to do," he admitted. His mother turned, showing the same lifeless eyes his siblings had possessed.

"Mummy," he muttered in horror, suddenly reverting back to childhood. His father revealed the same pair of eyes and Mycroft never felt more alone. Family was a value to him and he had lost them all. He was alone in the world.

"Mycroft," a feminine voice spoke. "Mycroft, wake up. Wake up, sweetheart."

His eyes shot open, a cold sweat overcoming him to find Alicia beside him. She stroked his cheek tenderly with concern in her eyes.

"You're not a zombie, are you?" he asked frantically.

"No," she laughed softly. "Zombies aren't real, I promise." Mycroft felt himself relax and sink back into the pillows. "You're okay now."

"Yes," he agreed, holding her hand in his. "I am now."


End file.
